


Forgive Me

by somebody_nobody_021504



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Cheating, Death, FML, Gore(ish), Murder, Suicide, dear god why did I write this, dying, my girlfriend couldnt read it all, only read if you can handle mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebody_nobody_021504/pseuds/somebody_nobody_021504
Summary: hey! this is my first ever story, basically just a warm-up for me. please let me know if you spot any errors or something that doesn't seem right! i would really appreciate it! also, if you have any questions or any story ideas, let me know, and i'll try and see what i can come up with!! chao!!! <3 :3
Kudos: 1





	Forgive Me

I don't know why I did it. Maybe it was an impulse- but then again, maybe not. Maybe the sight of her just pissed me off. But I do know one thing- reading those filthy messages between her and some random stranger had been the last straw.

She came home late last night, around 12.30 or so. Much later than normal. No- that was a lie. She's been coming home later and later, starting about two months ago. Made the excuse that "things were getting difficult at work, and she was needed to help out the night staff." What a bunch of bullshit.

I heard her unlock the front door, heard her come into the house and set her keys and bags on the counter. I sat on our bed in the bedroom, her laptop open on my lap. She had left it open this morning, still logged into her email. I had but a mere glance at it this morning, but what I saw had ignited my curiosity. Words like "fuck" and "slut" popped out before I could comprehend exactly what I was reading.

What seemed to be a simple email to a friend was so much more. Disgusting, vulgar, so full of betrayal. I lost it. I had called in sick this morning, to let my boss know I wasn't going to work today. I just couldn't believe it- was this really the woman I had married? No. I didn't know this person that i had lived with for the last seven years of my life, not even in the slightest. I heard the shower turn on, and assumed she must be taking a shower. I turned my attention back to the laptop and reread those putrid emails of horrid betrayal, the words and their meaning leaking into my brain; into my soul:

_____  
Subject: Re: little miss fuck  
From: ImYourGirl_1  
To: BADBOY22

I'm on the bus. So horny for you. I can smell you on me. I feel like a slut! xx

_____  
Subject: Re: re: little miss fuck  
From BADBOY22  
To: ImYourGirl_1

U r a slut! Lol. C u later? After rehearsal?

_____  
Subject: Re: re: re: little miss fuck  
From: ImYourGirl_1  
To: BADBOY22

Ok. Will see what time I can get away. I'll text u.

_____  
Subject: Re: re: re: re: little miss fuck  
From: BADBOY22  
To: ImYourGirl_1

Ok. 830? 9? xx

_____

I couldn't bring myself to read any further. This whole ordeal was just a load of shitfuckery.

I heard her getting out of the shower. I shoved the laptop beneath my pillow just before she walked into the room. She gave me a confused look, seeing me just sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing, sitting up so late? Is everything alright?" she asked.

Yea, sure. You can pretend. I can pretend too.

"Just thinking. I couldn't really sleep. I had a long day at work." Oh, what a lie that was.

She shrugged her shoulders at my response, then proceeded to get herself dressed. She slid into her side of the bed, not bothering to ask me to lay down with her like she used to. Like all those other times a sat up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. I just simply sat there, contemplating on whether or not I truly wanted to go through with what I had planned.

I sat there for what seemed to be forever. I noticed she had fallen asleep, her light snores arousing me from my deep thoughts. I got up off the bed, careful not to wake her, and slipped out of the room.

I went to the closet at the end of the hallway, retrieving a large, heavy metal bat from amidst a messy heap of unfinished arts-and-crafts projects. I inspected it closely, then took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I quietly made my way back to the room.

~~

I stood over her, her slender body curled comfortably beneath the covers, her long hair cascading over the soft pillow. Oh, how beautiful she looked. How peaceful her dream must be, laying there, devoid of any knowledge of her coming end. What a shame.

I raised the bat above my head, grasping it tightly with both of my hands. I whispered a quiet prayer for myself.

It's true, I really did love her with all my heart. But she showed me that she could no longer be trusted. 

After all, love without trust doesn't deserve to be called love.

I swung the bat down, brought it down as hard, as fast as fiercely as i could possibly manage, smashing it into her pretty, deceitful little head. I raised it once more, then hit her again...

and again....

and again.....

and again.

Over and over and over, repeatedly crushing her skull, venting all my frustration, my anger, my hatred, leaking all my negative emotions flow from my brain to my hands to the bat, then finally into her face.

I finally stopped, looking down at the ugly mess I'd created. It was a gruesome sight- the bed was splattered with a horrible amalgamation of skull shards, brains... blood. So much blood. It seeped into the mattress and the pillow she had lain on, dripping onto the floor and staining the carpet.

Oh, dear god.

What have I done?

Tears welled in my eyes. I'd done something so awfully atrocious, it couldn't possibly be a dream, right? I would wake up tomorrow morning, look over at my beautiful wife, and kiss her good morning. No. That wouldn't happen. This was real. Horribly real.

I grabbed the pocketknife off of my nightstand. Funny- she always complained of its existence. Well, now she wouldn't have to.

I spoke to myself for a few seconds, repeating all my regrets aloud, saying them for the world to hear. As I said the last few words, I brought the knife to my throat. I pressed down hard, drawing out small beads of blood.

Then, I cut.

I cut deep.

I slowly slid the blade across my throat, careful to cut in deep, to ensure there would be a result. The knife fell out of my hand, my throat pouring blood. A deep red waterfall cascading from the wound, staining my chest and the front of my shirt. My sight became blurred. I coughed a bit, and it burned like fire, blood spraying from my mouth as I did so. I collapsed onto the floor, my blood mixing with hers, seeping into the carpet.

I whispered, but just a few simple words. Two very simple words, more for her than for me. Yet she would never hear them. They were merely a gust of air in this unforgiving world.

"Forgive me."


End file.
